What Happens in Vegas
by dawnbrightstars
Summary: While getting shawarma Tony brings up the topic of Budapest. Story time with the Avengers! Oneshot, T for safetly


**Hey guys, I know I said I was for the most part unable to type... well this has been sitting in my folder for ages so I did a little editing and I think it's now allowed to see the world (god help us all)**

**Don't own Avengers.**

**please R&R**

"So, Hawkeye," Tony started with a sly smile. "What happened in Budapest?" Natasha choked on her shawarma-covered bread.  
"What do you mean?" Despite his efforts at an air of innocents, he was unable to hide his smirk.  
"Come on, we all heard it," the billionaire argued. "'You and I remember Budapest very differently...' Comms were on, right guys?" Bruce and Thor both nodded reluctantly. Steve looked uncomfortably at the table.  
"It wasn't really anything," Natasha smoothly interrupted, in a voice that insisted it be forgotten. "Just another day at the office."  
It was a testament to her skills as a spy that the others almost believed her. They probably would have dropped it, if it hadn't been for Clint.  
Stupid smirk, Natasha thought.  
"Something happened," Tony insisted, searching the faces of both assassins for any trace of a story.  
"It's a classified mission," the redhead remarked stiffly, taking another bite of shawarma.  
"That never stopped you before," Steve murmured. Everyone stopped eating and stared at him- he was the last person they expected to pry.  
"I also wish to know what the hawk and spider did in the realm of Budapest," Thor rumbled, unknowingly filling the awkward pause.

Natasha tried to argue, "It's like Vegas. Everything stays in Vegas." But the others were having none of it. Seeing that storytime was inevitable, she sighed and waved at Clint to start.

"Well, it was one of our first missions together," he began, leaning back in his chair. "And someone was late for the flight..."

…

"Barton, if you had gotten up on time we wouldn't be in this mess," Natasha Romanoff hissed as they sprinted through the airport. Heads turned as the two reasonably attractive assassins flew past. They were dressed as any self-respecting rich American tourists would be- her in a flowery sundress and him in a white button-down shirt. Clint only grunted, equally frustrated. To any other traveller, their journey thus far would be unremarkable. Late start, bad traffic, long lines. To the assassins, however, missing their flight would mean more than waiting a few hours for the next one.  
Luckily they managed to make it to the gate with a few minutes to spare. Clint flashed a grin his "wife".  
"See honey? Not that bad."  
Natasha only glared.  
They rock-paper-scissored for the first watch, playing it off as who would get the window seat. Natasha won- or lost, depending on how you look at it- and settled down against the side of the plane.  
With the help of Zzzquil, she was asleep not long after the plane reached cruising altitude.  
"My wife's the same way," the man across the aisle said. "Can't stand flying." In truth, Fury preferred at least one of them to be fully rested upon arrival, but motion sickness seemed as good an excuse as any...  
_

"Hold up, Barton," Natasha interrupted. "I didn't know we were going that in depth."

"Aw come on, Nat," he grinned. "Details make the story!"  
"Yes," Stark jumped in. "Details. We like details." Banner sniggered,  
Natasha raised an eyebrow at the archer and shrugged. "Just think about the hole you're getting yourself into, that's all I'm saying."  
Clint paled. "And, um, we landed a few hours later."

…

Upon landing, they did what normal couples did on vacation- sight seeing. Clint played the role of the stereotypical American male tourist, purposefully getting them lost and refusing to ask for directions. Natasha teased him and laughed and hung off his arm, acting decidedly un-Natasha. It would have been strange for any of the others to see them, pretending to be naive and easy targets.  
They were good at their job.  
Eventually they found their hotel (after stopping at least three locals) and stumbled up to their room. The sun was just beginning the set; the dark red and gold tones of the room looked comforting in the half-light.  
"I'll take the couch," Clint offered, though he was eyeing the short loveseat with distaste. Natasha shook her head and pushed him towards the bed.  
"I'll take first watch."  
Though a full night's sleep would have been welcome, their mark was meant to be on the move by three.  
They were shadows, moving soundlessly across the city skyline. Both Natasha and Clint (though neither would ever admit it) admired the quiet beauty, so different from the clamor of New York. Finally they spotted their mark, prowling the streets below. Hawkeye reached back and lightly touched his arrows, silently asking the Black Widow permission to take him out. She shook her head- there might be others they needed to worry about.  
Others that set off a bomb a few streets down.  
Both of them cursed under their breath and took off towards the explosion, Natasha pausing to kill the main target before he could disappear again.

The street was in turmoil, with figures in black shooting randomly and civilians dropping like flies. The explosion took place just outside the hotel where a few embassadors were staying. Natasha felt her blood

boil. "We just took out the terrorist," Clint hissed, giving voice to her cause of anger. They dropped down into the fight, taking cover behind an overturned car. After a lengthy but unremarkable firefight, the men in black were merely bodies on the ground as the Widow and the Hawk disappeared back into the shadows.  
They booked the first flight out.

...

"And that's what happened in Budapest," Clint concluded, to the disappointed looks of the other Avengers. Tony snorted.

"That can't be all that happened. I get how the whole hiding behind a car relates, but how can you remember that differently?"

"We-ell," Natasha drawled, ignoring the warning look Clint sent her. "There was this one thing on the plane back."

"It was not my fault!" he whined. "She's the one that got the door stuck!"

"What happened?" This time it was all of the superheroes, looking very unheroic with their curious expressions.

"Drunk passenger, airplane bathroom, jammed lock," the Black Widow grinned evilly. "Poor Clint was stuck until the plane landed.

"Was this passenger female?" Tony questioned, genuinely amused. "And, erm, lacking boundaries?"

Clint shot him a glare that simultaneously told him to drop it and that he was right. The team roared with laughter, and spent the rest of the time swapping uncomfortable stories.

Later that evening, when they were all getting ready to camp out in one of the lower levels of Stark Tower, Natasha snuck up behind Clint and wrapped her arms around his waist. "That was quick thinking," she whispered, loving the way he shivered slightly.

"You did pretty good yourself. The plane bathroom? Nice touch."

"I still think yours was better."

He turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. "Which one?"

She grinned and chuckled darkly. "Imagine what would've happened if we told Stark our flight out was a week later."

**Please review! I wanna know if the whole one-shot thing works.**


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